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Robbie’s entire body tingled at the thought, and he aimed a flirty look Priest’s way. “Don’t try and sidetrack me. I want to know why Julien thought you were an ass. I mean, I’m not surprised, but I still want to know.”
“Well, in all fairness, he had a reason to be an ass to me,” Julien said.
“Why? Did you dare smile in his presence or something?”
“Non,” Julien said as he looked at his husband. “There was no smiling that day, princesse.”
Robbie scooted to the edge of his seat and crossed his wrists over his knee, captivated by the serious look on Julien’s face, when he was usually so…affable. “Why? What happened?”
“I was stealing his car,” Julien said, and Robbie’s eyes almost bugged out of his head.
“What?”
“He was stealing my car,” Priest said as though talking to a total moron, which, in all fairness, Robbie probably appeared to be right then. He was completely and utterly gobsmacked.
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” Priest said.
Robbie brought a hand up to cover the laugh that was dying to escape. But come on, this was too much. “And let me guess, you caught him, and then what? Blackmailed him into marrying you or you’d throw him in jail?”
Finally, a laugh rumbled out of Julien, and Robbie’s shoulders started to shake with his own mirth.
“Remember what I said earlier about spanking your ass?” Priest said, but for the first time ever, Robbie caught a twinkle in his eye, as though he was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Would you like to start tonight?”
“Nope.” Robbie shook his head but couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. “I want to know more about this instead.”
Chapter Twelve
CONFESSION
My nonna always says that God works in mysterious ways. I’m starting to think she’s right.
Especially when it comes to a certain…Priest.
JULIEN SETTLED BACK into the couch and propped one of his ankles up on his knee. Robbie was perched on the edge of his seat, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he waited for them to tell him more.
“Do you want to tell him? Or should I, mon beau voleur de coeurs?” Priest asked as he glanced at Julien, a smirk curving those usually stern lips.
“I’m going to need to learn French around you two, aren’t I?” Robbie said.
“That implies you plan to be around. Is that so?” Priest asked, and Robbie shrugged.
“I don’t know. I’m still deciding. Anyway, what does it mean?” Robbie asked Julien. “Mon beau voleur de coeurs…?”
Julien smiled at Robbie’s attempt. “My beautiful thief of hearts,” he said, as Priest’s fingers trailed along the back of his shoulder.
“So you were actually telling the truth last night about being a thief?” Robbie laughed. “No way.”
“In a manner of speaking,” Julien said. “But the day we met I was more a thief of—”
“Vehicles?” Priest deadpanned, and Julien turned to look into Priest’s eyes, recalling the exact moment fate had brought him into this man’s path and forever changed his destiny.
“That would be right, mon amour,” Julien said. “But it all turned out in the end, did it not?”
“COME BACK HERE, you French fucker!”
The loud shout of a pissed-off male came out of the fourth-story window of the block of apartments Julien had spent the day naked in. With his jeans barely hanging onto his hips, and his open shirt flapping in the sweltering afternoon breeze only L.A. could bring, Julien paused where he was on the fire escape with his hands wrapped around the metal rungs.
Merde, he thought, as he looked at the ground below. Was it really so much to ask of the person he was fucking to disclose whether they had a significant other who may come home midway through said fucking?
It wasn’t like it was a prerequisite that one had to be single for him to look twice. With the amount of alcohol in his system at any given hour, he really didn’t care all that much. But a little heads-up if he was going to be chased down a fucking alley would be nice, instead of when he was hanging from a fire escape with his jeans falling off his ass.
The balcony doors he’d fled from seconds ago crashed open, and Lorenzo—the one who’d burst the bubble on this little afternoon tête-à-tête—leaned over the side railing waving a baseball bat.
“You like a good fucking, do you? Then I got something for you, asshole. You won’t be able to sit for a week.”
Okay, so, non. Julien much preferred things the other way around, and that was what finally kicked his ass in gear and had his legs moving again for the rungs under them. When he finally reached the bottom of the escape, he dangled a couple of feet above the ground, aimed his eyes up at the bulky man barreling down after him, and let go.
His bare feet landed on the pavement, and he cursed as something sharp dug into the sole of his right foot. He hopped around for a second, the alcohol from earlier in the day having faded enough that pain was actually something he could feel, and when he heard the groan of the metal stairs on the second story, he winced and started to make a run for it down the alley.
